


The skills of Assassins

by chaos_monkey



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: 19 year old Ezio, Anal Fingering, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Incest, Light Voyeurism, M/M, Masturbation, Mentor/Protégé, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Shameless Smut, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Underage Masturbation, fic may or may not be continued, like in a flashback, sexy training traditions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25139173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_monkey/pseuds/chaos_monkey
Summary: After two years at the family villa in Monteriggioni, training in techniques of combat and stealth, there are still a few more things Ezio can learn from his uncle Mario... if he wants to.He does.
Relationships: Ezio Auditore da Firenze/Mario Auditore da Firenze
Comments: 32
Kudos: 45





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fallowsthorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallowsthorn/gifts).



> *waves* hello new fandom! I write filth, I'm partway through a playthrough of AC2 and terribly in love with Ezio. I was also very surprised to learn there's no Ezio/Mario fic yet, soooo now there is.
> 
> Here be smut, please heed the tags, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Fallowsthorn this is all your fault for encouraging me)

Ezio found him out on the front balcony of the villa, leaning on the railing and watching the little town of Monteriggioni in the fading light of the setting sun. 

“ _Zio_ Mario. You wanted to see me?” Ezio asked quietly, joining his uncle at the railing. 

They watched the sky darken in silence for a time, Ezio smiling slightly as he waited for Mario to answer. He knew he wouldn’t have had any such patience when he’d first come here, too full of fire and righteous fury and a blinding thirst for vengeance. The fire and the anger were still there, the drive for revenge as well— he didn’t see how that would ever change— but he knew how to control them, now. Or at least, how to channel them rather than be consumed by them. 

Apparently Mario was thinking along the same lines, because when he finally looked over at Ezio it was with a fond smile and a soft laugh. “Ah, _nipote._ How much you have grown in only two years. You do our family proud.” 

“It is thanks to you, Uncle,” Ezio said, feeling a pleased warmth spread through his chest. “I could never have come so far without you.” 

“True,” Mario said, grinning broadly as he looked out across the town once more. “But still, you have great skill. And even greater promise, I think.” 

There was tension across the line of Mario’s shoulders, despite his smile. Ezio thought perhaps he knew why, and an eager thrill leapt within him. 

“I am ready, then? My training is done?” Ezio asked. “Our enemies will not wait forever.” 

“Are any of us ever truly ready, I wonder,” Mario murmured, more to himself than to Ezio. “Your training is not complete, Ezio, but you are right— it will suffice for now. It is time for you to seek out our enemies. There is, however… one other skill I might teach you before you begin. If you wish it.” 

Mario hesitated, and Ezio waited for him to continue, looking at his uncle curiously. He hadn’t been given a choice in any of his training before. 

“Normally it would be someone other than myself to help you in this, but—” Mario shrugged, gesturing vaguely around them. 

Ezio nodded in understanding, his excitement sobering slightly. _But there is only us._ The Templars may not have succeeded in their goal of wiping out the Assassins, but it was certainly not for lack of trying. 

“What is it, Uncle? Tell me. You know I want to learn _all_ the ways of the Assassins.” 

A crooked smirk tugged at the corner of Mario’s mouth. “I have heard you were quite a favourite of the young ladies, back in Firenze. And maybe one or two here as well, _sì?_ ” 

Ezio laughed, loud and clear, and shot his uncle an amused grin. Was _that_ all this was about? “I assure you, Uncle Mario, I need no guidance when it comes to matters of pleasing women. You needn’t be concerned about that.” 

“Yes, from what I have heard, I believe you, Ezio,” Mario said with a chuckle, dipping his head in a nod. “But what about when it comes to matters of pleasing men?” 

The question was delivered in such a casual tone that it took a moment for the meaning to sink in. And when it did, Ezio froze. 

He _didn’t_ know of such things, not himself. But… 

Federico knew. Had known. Ezio knew this because he had seen it for himself years ago, by accident. 

He still remembered it clearly. Everyone else had been out; Father away on business, Mother visiting family with Claudia and _poco_ Petruccio, and most of the servants gone home for the day. Federico was with friends, as he often was, and Ezio had taken the opportunity to slip into his older brother’s rooms to have a look around. But Federico had returned early, for some reason sneaking in through his own bedroom window. Ezio had only had a moment’s warning to hide, the sound of shoes scuffing on the wall outside the window alerting him just in time to slip into the wardrobe and out of sight before his brother climbed into the room. 

Tucked away between the hanging tunics with a grin, planning to leap out and startle Federico when he wasn’t expecting it, Ezio had only realized his brother was not alone in the room when he heard a vaguely familiar voice ask in a low murmur, “You’re _certain_ no one will come looking for you?” 

“Yes, _amore mio,_ I am certain. No one is here but us,” Federico answered in the same low tone, and Ezio could _hear_ the smile in his brother’s voice, and his mouth fell open in silent shock because the first voice had also been a young man. One of Federico’s friends. 

Heart hammering in his chest, Ezio had carefully shifted to peer through the gap in the wardrobe doors and had nearly bitten his own tongue at the sight before him. His brother, locked in an embrace with _another boy,_ kissing and almost frantically disrobing while they stumbled towards Federico’s bed together. 

Ezio knew such things were forbidden, a sin in the eyes of God and the Church… But this was  _ Federico.  _ Federico, the brother whom Ezio loved unconditionally; nearly worshipped, truth be told, for as long as he could remember. Anything Federico did could not be  _ that  _ wrong, whatever the priests said. 

And so Ezio had watched, silently, fascinated, as Federico and his friend— no, his _lover—_ did all the things Ezio had just started to explore in secret with some of the girls he knew; all those things and more. He couldn’t see everything from his hiding place, but he could _hear_ everything; and those sounds paired with what he _could_ see had been more than enough to excite him as well, until his cock was hard and leaking against his thigh and aching so badly it was painful. It had scarcely taken more than a squeeze through his clothing before he was spilling his seed into his underclothes, feeling it pulse hot and sticky over his skin while he desperately clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his gasp. 

The other two had been loud enough themselves not to hear the little squeak of shocked pleasure that had escaped him before he stifled it, at least. As far as Ezio was aware, Federico had never known he was there. 

But Ezio knew. He knew, and remembered it often, and had always been too afraid to seek out such companionship for himself to sate his own curiosity. 

Pushing away the deep ache of loss that still welled up with every memory of his brother, Ezio met his uncle’s steady gaze again. Mario was waiting patiently, head tilted slightly to one side. 

“Why?” Ezio finally asked. 

“Why what, Ezio?” 

“Why is this a… skill of Assassins?” 

“I believe you know the answer to that already,” Mario said. 

Ezio glanced away to frown, unseeing, down at the rooftops below. It was true. He could see exactly how the art of love could be used to gain knowledge, favours, even relatively safe access to areas and people that would otherwise be very difficult to achieve. The way city guards reacted to a pretty face and a little unexpected attention was proof enough of that already. 

When Ezio said nothing, Mario continued, speaking quietly into his thoughts. “But it is not the only reason. There used to be whole schools of Assassins, Ezio. These particular skills were learned from mentors along with the rest, yes, but exploration and attachments were also encouraged among initiates. The bond of intimacy can be a powerful thing, _nipote._ As you well know. And more than that… the life and duty of an Assassin often leaves little room for pleasure, or happiness. If we do not remember that there is also joy to be had in life, then what is the point of any of it?” 

Ezio nodded absently, still thinking. 

“As I said, I can show you this, but only if you wish me to, Ezio,” Mario added. “It is not something I would force upon you, ever.” 

Finally looking up again to find his uncle watching him with an unfamiliar expression of… uncertainty on his rugged, scarred features, Ezio made his decision. 

“Teach me,” he said firmly. Though he knew he was not supposed to want such things, _especially_ not from his own blood… If he was being honest, the prospect was far from unpleasant; the mere idea of it more than enough to send a tingle of nervous excitement through his groin. 

And besides, a good Assassin knew to use _every_ tool at his disposal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Revakah for the beta read and for listening to me babble about how hot Ezio is in my game that you don’t actually play 😂💙

The first ‘lesson’ began with Ezio blushing furiously, standing in his uncle’s bedchamber listening to Mario explain in detail the best ways to wash oneself in preparation; as well as various signs, symbols, and codes often used by men to signal their inclinations and find compatible partners in different cities. 

While undressing him. 

“Obviously, just as it is with women, men do not all enjoy exactly the same things,” Mario continued, pulling Ezio’s shirt off over his head. He folded it carefully before placing it to one side with Ezio’s robes and armour, in an action that had a feel of ritual to it. He then stepped up behind Ezio again, and Ezio shivered with mingled nerves and anticipation as his uncle’s hands, large and warm and firm, came to rest lightly on his bare hips. “But even more than that, you will not necessarily be performing the same role with each one.” 

“The same… role?” Ezio asked, distracted by the feeling of Mario’s thumbs rubbing light circles over his skin, sending a soft ripple of goosebumps up his sides. 

“Some men will want you to fuck them. Others will want to fuck you. Some enjoy both,” Mario said bluntly, and Ezio swallowed nervously. 

“How does that… I don’t—” 

“Relax, Ezio,” Mario said, gentle amusement lacing through the affectionate warmth in his voice. “We will not be starting with that immediately. We never have to at all, if you find you don’t want to. Sometimes, as I am sure you know yourself, a man’s needs are very simple indeed.” 

He pressed against Ezio from behind as he spoke, and Ezio’s breath caught as the warm pressure of his uncle’s hand slid inwards and down to palm his cock over top of his remaining clothing. 

“A skilled hand can often be _more_ than enough to bring pleasure and satisfaction,” Mario murmured, bending his head to press his lips to the side of Ezio’s neck and squeezing him lightly through his pants, the fabric of which suddenly seemed much too thick for Ezio’s liking. 

Ezio tilted his head with a softly huffed breath, baring his neck to Mario’s mouth. Despite his nerves, his body responded readily to the caress, and his cock filled eagerly under his uncle’s touch. His breathing was already beginning to come faster as Mario started stroking him slowly, though the movement was more… rhythmic tugs than anything else. 

“And will I be tested on my technique and skill in this too, Uncle?” Ezio asked, breathing a short laugh. 

Mario chuckled, humming against his neck, and gave his cock a slightly harder squeeze with a twist of his wrist that made Ezio’s knees go briefly shaky. 

“Nothing quite so formal as that, Ezio,” he said. Ezio nearly whined when that warm pressure left his rapidly-stiffening cock, his uncle instead using both hands to deftly undo Ezio’s pants as he spoke. “The goal is rather for you to become… more aware. To experience things you may not have before. To learn what you enjoy and what you are comfortable returning in kind, in a situation where you are free to ask questions or simply stop entirely, at any time.” 

Ezio nodded, but interrupted his own reply with a quiet, hitched gasp as Mario’s hand closed around his freed erection. It was far from the first time he’d been touched by someone else, but this was… this was _different._ Like the feeling of his own hand on himself, yet not. Mario’s hands were big, bigger than his own, rough and calloused; and his grip was firm and sure, neither tentative nor teasing in the manner in which Ezio was accustomed to with the girls and young women he’d been with before. He suddenly didn’t know what to do with his own hands, fisting them in the loose fabric over his thighs and biting down on his bottom lip as his uncle gave his fully-hard cock a few slow, deliberate strokes. 

“Relax,” Mario said again, moving around slightly and doing something with his free hand; Ezio wasn’t quite sure what. “You are allowed to let yourself enjoy this. It is _supposed_ to feel good, remember?” 

Ezio nodded again, taking a deep breath to relax. He looked down curiously as Mario paused, releasing him again to open a glass vial and pour a small amount of what looked a lot like…  _ olive  _ oil onto one palm. “What is that for?” 

“This,” Mario answered, palming Ezio’s cock again with his oiled hand. 

Something between a gasp and a moan slipped from Ezio’s lips and his legs wobbled under him as his uncle’s grip slid smoothly down the length of his cock and back up again. It was similar to using spit to slick himself, only… much, much better. Slippery and light, it felt slightly cool at first but warmed up quickly from the heat of Mario’s skin and Ezio’s own cock. 

“You just… had that with you?” Ezio asked with a breathless laugh, already starting to pant. Mario hadn’t even sped up yet, but the way he squeezed, just _so;_ the slick, deliberate slide and twist of his hand on every stroke… it felt so fucking _good._

“A good _Assassino_ is always prepared,” Mario replied, amusement dancing in his tone and his lips curving up into a smirk against Ezio’s neck. 

His breath was warm, tongue darting out to flicker wet and soft over Ezio’s skin, and Ezio found himself leaning back more heavily against his uncle’s body, powerful and warm and _solid_ against his bare back. Mario finally started pumping his cock a little faster, but still not _fast;_ and a shivering groan escaped Ezio’s lips, his hips twitching in aborted half-thrusts as he tried to pay attention to exactly what Mario was doing to him, rather than just fucking into his uncle’s talented hand and losing himself to pleasure. 

But for once, Ezio was fighting a losing battle. His eyes fluttering shut and his head tilting back on Mario’s shoulder as he panted and trembled, it was mere moments before his balls pulled up tight between his legs, the heat of imminent climax building behind his throbbing cock. 

“Uncle— I—” was all Ezio managed before a powerful wave of pleasure crashed through him and he spilled into his uncle’s slick grip, spurting out onto the floor as he gasped hoarsely for breath. With a pleased hum against his neck that Ezio felt more than heard, Mario worked him through to the very end of his orgasm, gently coaxing a few final pulses of come from Ezio’s twitching cock and somehow knowing to let go _just_ as the touch became too much for his sensitive flesh to bear. 

Mario leaned over to grab a folded cloth off the desk beside them, and though his hand remained on Ezio’s lower back, steadying him, Ezio swayed a little on his feet. For Mario having used nothing but a single hand on him, that had been… 

“Good?” Mario asked, carefully wiping him clean of the oil, and— Ezio couldn’t help blushing slightly— come, before finally stepping away with a smile to clean his own hand as well. 

“More than merely ‘good’,” Ezio said with a still-breathless laugh. He felt a broad grin spread over his face as he moved to get dressed again; but then he hesitated, biting his lower lip, his eyes flicking slightly nervously down his uncle’s body and back up again. “Do you want… Should I—?” 

Mario gently interrupted the question with a shake of his head. “Not until you feel you are ready, Ezio.” 

Ezio hesitated a moment longer before nodding and turning to pick up his neatly folded shirt, tugging it on over his head. Mario was right. He wasn’t ready, not quite yet. It was still too new, too… _different._

But even after re-dressing and bidding his uncle goodnight, an exchange that proved neither awkward nor uncomfortable in the slightest, Ezio’s thoughts kept returning to the idea. He couldn’t help wondering whether he might one day be able to make his uncle feel as good with only one hand as Mario had just done to him— and the mere thought of it was enough to send an eager thrill of excitement through his core and make his cock twitch with renewed interest. 

By the time Ezio lay down in his own bed for the night, unusually relaxed and… _content,_ he was already looking forward to discovering just what else Mario had to teach him. 


	3. Chapter 3

The very next evening, Ezio did his best to wash himself in the manner which Mario had described and made his way up to his uncle’s bedchamber once again. The thick wooden door was slightly ajar, a line of warm light spilling into the stone hallway. 

“ _Entrare,_ ” Mario called from within in response to Ezio’s knock. He was sitting at the desk, reading by lamplight, and looked up as Ezio entered. “Ezio! This is a pleasant surprise. I was not expecting to see you tonight.” 

“Good evening, Uncle.” Ezio hesitated just inside the doorway. “I… did not mean to interrupt. I can leave if you have work to do.” 

“No, no, it is nothing urgent,” Mario said. With a dismissive wave of his hand at the pages he had been studying, he began shuffling them together in a loose stack. “Please. Come in.” 

Latching the door behind him, Ezio approached his uncle’s desk, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue and clearing his throat self-consciously. “I was wondering whether we might continue our… lessons tonight.” 

Mario grinned as he placed a smoothed, engraved stone on top of the sheaf of papers. “Of course you were. Foolish of me to forget what it is like to be a young man,” he said, rising to his feet with a knowing chuckle. Ezio blushed. “You enjoyed the first one, then?” 

“I did,” Ezio answered. He took a small step closer, biting his lip in a crooked smile and resting his palms lightly against Mario’s chest. 

“ _Molto bene,_ ” Mario murmured, hands moving to unlace Ezio’s shirt. “I see you have dispensed with your armour this time.” 

Ezio shrugged. “It seemed more expedient,” he replied, his smile widening as his nerves faded into excitement. 

Mario laughed softly as he removed Ezio’s shirt, folding it neatly and placing it on the desk as he had the night before. “Indeed.” 

“What is the next lesson, after ‘a skilled hand’?” Ezio asked, a little thrill wending through him as his uncle’s hands skimmed down his bare arms. Mario began undoing his pants for him, and Ezio, feeling bold, reached up to unfasten Mario’s doublet as well. 

“ _Two_ skilled hands,” Mario said with a wink, letting Ezio remove his doublet and shirt for him. “Come,” he said when it was done, turning his chair away from the desk and sitting again. 

Ezio stepped in front of his uncle, curious and eager, cock already beginning to thicken between his legs; and Mario turned him around by the hips. 

“Did you like it with the olive oil?” Mario asked, sliding Ezio’s pants and breeches smoothly down his thighs and freeing his rapidly hardening erection. 

Ezio nodded. “Very much.” 

“Mm… _eccellente,_ ” Mario hummed from behind him, and a delicious shiver rippled through Ezio at the warm press of Mario’s lips to his lower back. Kicking his boots off, he stepped out of his clothing, leaving it pooled on the floor as Mario’s hands ran up the outsides of his bared thighs to rest on his hips again. 

Ezio’s breath hitched and sped up a little as he was gently tugged backwards and down into his uncle’s lap with his legs spread to the outside of Mario’s thighs. He felt… oddly _vulnerable_ like this, naked and open in a way he was not accustomed to; yet he wasn’t at all uncomfortable or nervous with Mario’s solid warmth under him. And, well… he was more than a little excited to find out what would be coming next. 

Mario shifted behind him, producing the vial of oil again from a drawer in his desk and rubbing a sheen of it over both palms; and then Ezio groaned as Mario began massaging his shoulders, just where they curved up into his neck. 

It felt _wonderful._ Soft moans rose unbidden in Ezio’s throat in little barely-voiced huffs of breath, his body going limp and loose, as though he was melting under his uncle’s hands even as desire warmed his core and his cock stiffened further, rising full and hard between his spread legs. Mario’s touch was firm and sure, the oil warm and slick as he worked at Ezio’s neck and shoulders for a time before gradually moving down his back, thumbs digging into the muscles alongside his spine. 

After a pause to reapply fresh oil, Mario’s hands skimmed back up to Ezio’s shoulders, easing Ezio back to lean against his broad chest. Ezio relaxed back against him with a sigh as Mario’s strong, deft fingers kneaded at his chest and upper arms. His uncle’s skin was warm on his back, the thick, dark hair covering Mario’s bare chest and stomach coarse and scratchy yet far from unpleasant. Mario’s touch gradually gentled, until his palms were smoothing flat over Ezio’s skin instead, sliding down his front in slow strokes and back up again. 

A low moan fell from Ezio’s lips, his cock twitching up off his belly as Mario’s calloused fingertips brushed over the very tops of his hips before moving up and away again. He couldn’t seem to stop squirming slowly in his uncle’s lap, his hips shifting sinuously under that slick, teasing touch; and a bitten-off, needy whimper escaped him when Mario’s hands finally slid down his lower belly to gently squeeze his inner thighs, thumbs just barely brushing along the sides of his straining cock on the way by. 

“Shall I continue?” Mario asked, picking up the oil once more and waiting. 

“ _Per favore,_ Uncle,” Ezio groaned, squirming again. “I may well go mad if you do not.” 

He felt Mario’s smile against his skin as his uncle lightly mouthed a kiss into the side of his neck, just under the corner of his jaw, before dripping a bit more oil into one palm and setting the vial aside again. 

“We certainly would not want that,” Mario murmured, his voice husky. 

Ezio sucked in a sudden breath, his hips jerking as Mario’s hands, slippery and warm, slid lightly up his thighs to his groin. One closed over his cock, the other moving down to gently cup his balls; and without even thinking about it, Ezio spread his knees wider, pressing his hips up into hs uncle’s touch with a low groan. Letting his head fall back, he watched as Mario lifted his cock from his belly and began stroking it almost lazily, working the oil up and down his shaft and over his swollen, sensitive cockhead. There was no question that Mario knew what he was doing, his grip neither too tight nor too loose, his rhythm slow; his movements almost a caress as his hand slid up and down, palm circling the tip of Ezio’s cock every few strokes with an easy twist of his wrist. 

Before long he slid his other hand back up Ezio’s stomach to his chest. Ezio was briefly confused— and then Mario’s thumb circled over his nipple and he twitched, his cock jumping in his uncle’s hand at the unexpected jolt of sensation that spiked through his core. 

“Do that again,” Ezio breathed, a soft grunt falling from his lips and his back arching into it when Mario complied. Most of the women he had been with liked having his fingers or his mouth on their breasts— a few liked it a _lot—_ but somehow he had never thought to try it on himself. It seemed that he really should have. 

Almost as if reading his mind, Mario spoke, still working him slowly with both hands. “Women are perhaps more likely to enjoy this, but… some men find it very pleasing indeed.” 

Ezio just groaned as Mario squeezed his cock tighter, simultaneously rolling the stiffened peak of his nipple between thumb and forefinger. Another shiver of sudden pleasure danced through his core and he couldn’t help bucking his hips up, thrusting into his uncle’s slick grip— and he heard Mario’s muffled grunt at the same time that he felt Mario’s hips twitch under him and something press against his ass from below, hard and hot even through his uncle’s clothing. 

Ezio’s breath caught, his arousal abruptly spiralling higher and a moan rising in his throat at the realization that Mario was enjoying this just as much as he was. He shifted again, this time purposely rubbing his ass down into Mario’s lap, and Mario groaned openly that time, grinding up against him in return. 

His breath coming in shallow pants, Ezio continued rolling his hips, his uncle’s erection a thick line of heat nestled into the cleft of his ass and his own cock sliding hot and hard through Mario’s fist. A whine escaped him when Mario’s fingers left his chest, but it turned into a full-throated moan instead when Mario reached down between his spread legs, palm cupping his balls again and fingers rubbing at the sensitive spot just beneath them. 

And then they slid down further still, brushing over the rim of his hole, and Ezio jerked with a cry of surprised pleasure. He hadn’t expected a touch _there_ to feel so… so _good,_ but it did; and Mario didn’t stop, pumping his cock faster, fingertips circling his entrance, pressing just barely inside him— Ezio’s chest was heaving, he was moaning helplessly on every sharp exhale as he rocked himself harder on Mario’s clothed erection, wondering how it would feel to have his uncle’s cock there instead of his fingers, pushing inside him, hot and slick and _hard—_

The thought nudged Ezio that tiny increment higher and he was done. Shuddering in Mario’s lap, he spilled out with a strangled gasp, his hips twitching spastically and his cock throbbing, pulsing streaks of come up his own front to spatter hot and sticky over his skin. As he had done before, Mario worked him through his climax and out the other side, gradually easing off until the last trickles of Ezio’s seed had dripped down over his own cock and his uncle’s fingers. Ezio groaned, panting, hips shifting as Mario released him. He could feel his uncle’s heavy breathing hot on his neck, Mario’s cock still a stiff rod of heat pressing insistently against his ass from below; and Ezio suddenly wanted nothing more than to _feel_ it in his hand, to watch as Mario spilled himself as well. 

Turning, Ezio quickly straddled his uncle’s lap the other way instead. He fumbled Mario’s pants open and drew him out, breath catching as Mario groaned, his hands sliding up Ezio’s spread legs to cup his ass and his cock twitching eagerly, flexing and straining in Ezio’s grip. 

Ezio licked his lips and gave an almost tentative stroke down Mario’s shaft and back up again, and then another; his breath still coming fast and shallow and his gaze fixed down at the way his own fingers looked wrapped around his uncle’s flushed, leaking cock. He’d expected it to be similar to taking himself in hand, but somehow it wasn’t; and not only because of the minor differences in size and shape. He was so much more… _aware_ of how it felt, hot and hard and heavy in his hand, the delicately soft skin moving with his fist on each stroke, the way it pressed up against his fingers whenever Mario’s stomach tensed in a soft grunt and the sticky yet slippery feeling of the precome welling continually from the slit in the tip. 

He glanced up as he continued, his confidence bolstered by the sight of Mario watching as well, cheeks ruddy with pleasure and his eyes half-lidded, his lips parted and his bare chest heaving as he panted for breath. He groaned, low and shaky, his hands tensing on Ezio’s ass and his hips twitching as Ezio tightened his grip a little without pausing. He kept up a steady rhythm, trying not to go too fast or too slow, and he must have gotten something right because although he’d completely forgotten about the oil in his haste, Mario’s already rapid breathing was soon hitching in little grunting moans in the back of his throat, his hips beginning to roll in short, jerky half-thrusts. 

Ezio finally started speeding up along with the increasingly needy rocking of Mario’s hips, pumping him harder, trying to watch everywhere at once so he wouldn’t miss any of it— and then Mario tensed, mouth falling open in a hoarse gasp and his eyes squeezing shut as his cock _throbbed_ harder still in Ezio’s hand. Ezio’s eyes flew down just in time to watch as he came, shuddering, his release pulsing onto his own stomach in several long spurts and dripping hot and sticky down Ezio’s fingers. 

Delighted with his own handiwork and absentmindedly running his tongue over his teeth in an open-mouthed grin, Ezio carefully finished coaxing his uncle through his orgasm, finally stilling his hand as Mario slumped in his chair with a groaning sigh. 

“ _Grazie,_ Ezio,” Mario grunted, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth and his eyes cracking open again as Ezio released him. “You learn quickly.” 

Ezio blushed with a pleased smile, and then glanced over at the desk and belatedly realized there was, of course, no cloth ready to clean up with this time. “Um…” 

Mario followed his gaze down to the mess on them both and laughed. “No matter,” he said with a lopsided grin, patting Ezio’s hip and sitting up. “A common hazard.” 

Wriggling off his uncle’s lap, Ezio stood, blushing harder still as he caught sight of the uneven wet patch glistening in the fabric of Mario’s pants where he’d been sitting. He’d been so caught up in things he had been only distantly aware of his own come slowly running back down his stomach to drip onto Mario’s clothing— but Mario appeared unbothered, merely crossing the room to fetch two clean cloths and returning to hand one to Ezio. 

As they wiped themselves off, Ezio glanced over at his uncle, eyeing him curiously. Though Ezio couldn’t quite seem to banish the heat that had risen in his cheeks, feeling a touch bashful again now that it was over, Mario didn’t seem at all perturbed by… what he was covered in; or by his state of undress, briskly cleaning himself up with his pants still loose at the tops of his thighs, his cock soft in its nest of thick, dark hair. 

For Ezio’s part, he was already beginning to stir again, both from having watched his uncle’s pleasure at his touch, as well as from thinking back to how good Mario’s fingers had felt, pressing ever so slightly inside him while he came. He also hadn’t quite cleaned up _all_ the oil, the slippery feeling of it still at his ass stoking the low burn of his renewed arousal; and he dressed hurriedly before it became too obvious. 

But… while he certainly wasn’t about to impose on Mario by asking for another round tonight, there was no reason he couldn’t explore a little on his own before going to sleep if he wanted to. 

“Would you happen to have another of those?” Ezio ventured as he tugged his boots on, nodding towards the glass vial sitting on the desk in what he hoped was a casual manner. There would be olive oil in the kitchens, of course, but he had nothing to store it in. 

Mario’s good eye twinkled knowingly; but he only smiled, closed the vial, and tossed it to Ezio. “Consider it yours. I will get another.” 

“ _Grazie,_ ” Ezio mumbled, quickly tucking it away and managing to only flush a little. “ _Buona notte,_ Uncle.” 

“Goodnight, Ezio.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Mid-November update: hey folks, just popping in to say this fic is not abandoned! It's going slowly because I've been heavily focused on nanowrimo and had to put all my longer other-wips on hold, but I will definitely be updating again ^.^)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves from the shadows* yes hi I'm still here! ^.^ Finally got this chapter done, hope you all enjoy!   
> And I know it's been awhile, but thank you for some inspiration regarding Mario's hands, Rev ;)
> 
> (A note: I do have other ideas for future chapters that I hope to keep going with, but I'll be honest - if and when I get them written probably depends a lot on whether I pick up my re-play-through of AC2 again any time soon. It's all just more excuses for smut though, I have no real story going with this haha)

Before they got another evening lesson in, Mario was called away from Monteriggioni for several days, and Ezio was left impatiently awaiting his uncle’s return while trying to pretend he wasn’t. 

He passed the time by diving into his training with renewed vigour. When he wasn’t in the small arena in front of the villa, training with Mario’s mercenaries for hours on end, he was out riding, exploring the surrounding area; or setting himself increasingly challenging obstacle courses through the town itself, leaping and climbing and sprinting around the now-familiar buildings of Monteriggioni, over and over again until he could nearly have navigated the streets and rooftops alike with his eyes closed. 

And, of course, by putting that little vial of olive oil to good use in the privacy of his own chambers. 

The angle was always a little awkward, but Ezio was nothing if not persistent. Not to mention flexible. Both served him well when he was splayed out naked on his bed late at night, bottom lip caught between his teeth and both hands between his legs as he explored more of what he’d had only a taste of on Mario’s lap. Actually pressing one or two fingers a little ways inside himself instead of simply rubbing and circling at the rim of his entrance always felt somewhat… strange; but still decidedly pleasant. Especially when he stroked his cock at the same time. 

Bringing himself to orgasm _while_ gently pumping the tips of two slicked fingers in and out had been another revelation in itself, the feel of his own body spasming and clenching around them when he came intensifying and prolonging his release more than he had entirely expected. He was left trembling and panting for air, staring up at the ceiling in mild shock with his seed hot on his stomach and chest and one arm, his spent cock still twitching weakly in his grip and his fingers buried as deep in his own ass as he could manage. 

By the time Mario came back nearly a week later, Ezio was just as keen to get a hand on Mario again as he was to feel the touch of another, _there;_ to have his uncle’s fingers inside him when he came instead of merely his own. 

As luck would have it, he was already out prowling the rooftops of Monteriggioni in the last rays of the setting sun when Mario returned. Abandoning his half-completed circuit when the familiar figure striding in through the gate caught his eye, Ezio bounded across the buildings as silently as possible, curious to see how closely he could tail his uncle before being spotted. 

Not that closely, as it transpired. 

He had just paused, perched on an overhang above the doctor’s shop, to consider the best route towards the villa when Mario called, “ _Buonasera, nipote,_ ” without looking up or breaking stride. 

Ezio couldn’t see his face from that angle, but he could hear the smile in his uncle’s voice. Grinning, he leapt a few roofs over and caught a convenient pole on the way down. Swinging out into the street, he landed directly in front of Mario with a thump and a muted clank, startling both the blacksmith and his current customer across the way. 

“Good evening, Uncle! It is good to see you back,” Ezio said, dipping his head towards the frowning proprietor in apology as he fell into step beside Mario. “All is well, I hope?” 

Mario flashed him a toothy, half-feral grin and a wink. 

“It is now,” he said, and Ezio laughed. “No, in truth, it was only a minor dispute,” Mario grunted with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Nothing serious. I spent more time traveling there and back than anything else.” 

“Ahh. You must be quite tired, then.” Ezio tried, but couldn’t _quite_ manage to keep the tinge of disappointment from his tone as they climbed the curving steps towards the villa. 

“I am not quite so old as you seem to think, Ezio,” Mario said with a snort, shooting him an amused glance. “I should hope I can still handle a short journey in good weather.” Ezio perked up and his uncle’s wry smirk widened into a knowing grin. “Give me time to eat and bathe, and to see what matters have come up in my absence that require my attention. Later, if you wish, we may… speak further.” 

The pause and the emphasis on ‘speak’ were subtle but unmistakable, and a little shiver of anticipation curled through Ezio’s groin. “Of course, Uncle. _A presto,_ ” he said. 

Mario waved a hand in acknowledgement, disappearing into the villa with a laugh and a shake of his head, and Ezio turned back to make one last, somewhat leisurely circuit around Monteriggioni’s rooftops. The excited grin stayed on his face the entire time, his mind ceaselessly turning over thoughts of what they might do tonight; and by the time he returned to the villa, he was nearly twitching with anticipation— some parts of him more so than others. 

Ezio quickly took care of that while bathing. He was determined to make a better showing of himself this time and _last_ a little longer; and besides, he had _more_ than enough time to recover. After cleaning himself extremely thoroughly, as well— he had gotten much better at that over the past week, and found he even enjoyed the sensation by now— he dried off and dressed in clean clothes. As little of them as he could manage while not actually being indecent. 

He had already snuck into the kitchens when no one was around to refill the vial of olive oil a day or two previously, and he made sure to grab it from next to his bed before heading downstairs and looking in on his uncle’s large study off the back courtyard. Mario was seated at his desk, still in his traveling clothes and finishing his meal while he worked. So, while the rest of the villa quieted down for night, Ezio forced himself to take his time over a light supper and a small glass of wine and tried not to fidget impatiently. 

When finally he could stand the waiting no longer, he poked his head into Mario’s study again— and found it empty and dark. 

With a grin and a renewed flare of excitement, Ezio slipped upstairs to his uncle’s bedchamber. Mario bade him enter, and Ezio walked in to find his uncle reading by lamplight, his hair damp from bathing. 

“I was beginning to wonder if you had changed your mind,” Mario said, his tone teasing. 

Biting his lip with a crooked smile, Ezio watched as Mario marked his page and set the book aside before rising to his feet. “Not at all,” he answered; then pressed himself up against Mario, slipping his hands onto his uncle’s waist and leaning up to press a hungry kiss to his mouth, eager to get on with things. 

Mario stiffened and Ezio froze, suddenly afraid he’d unthinkingly crossed a line— but Mario caught him by the hips in turn before he could pull away and stammer out an apology. Instead, Ezio felt his uncle’s hands slide around to his back, lips parting and tongue flicking lightly over his bottom lip, the touch wet and warm and inviting, though tentative. 

Ezio didn’t hesitate. His hips twitched forward almost of their own accord as he deepened the kiss, sucking on Mario’s lower lip before licking into his mouth, a quiet moan rising in his throat as his uncle’s tongue met his. In _this,_ at least, Ezio knew what he was doing. Instinct took over, lust spiking through his core and setting his cock stiffening rapidly while he stripped Mario’s shirt over his head, Mario doing the same for him as they stumbled blindly to the bed, mouths meeting hot and wet and hungry and hands running over bared skin. 

When they did reach the bed, Ezio pushed Mario down onto his back and climbed on top of him without pause, chasing Mario’s mouth with a low groan, straddling his uncle’s hips and grinding down against him on all fours. Mario was clearly enjoying this as much as Ezio was, erection hot and stiff they rutted against one another, still half-clothed. 

Panting, Ezio reached down to fish the vial of oil out from the pocket inside his waistband; then unlaced his pants one-handed to free his straining cock, groaning against Mario’s lips when his uncle’s hands, warm and strong, slid down his bare back and slipped into his loosened clothing. He finally pulled away from the kiss, breathing hard as he sat up and fumbled the oil open. He couldn’t quite stop his hips from shifting, rolling, circling incessantly; not with Mario’s hands squeezing his ass and Mario’s hips rocking under him. 

Mario just watched him with an indolent, heavy-lidded curiosity, a smile playing over his kiss-swollen lips and his cock a blatant tent in his pants. He made no move to unfasten them, so Ezio did it for him, licking his lips at the sight of Mario’s erection lying thick and flushed against his belly a moment later. Ignoring his own need for the time being, his gaze flickering up and down to try and take in _everything_ at once, Ezio wrapped his well-slicked fingers around Mario’s cock in a long, smooth stroke, palm sliding easily with the oil. Mario _groaned,_ that hard heat jumping and flexing in Ezio’s grip, his hips twitching up and his fingers tightening on Ezio’s ass. 

Running the tip of his tongue over his teeth with an open-mouthed grin, Ezio repeated the motion, sliding his slippery fist slowly up and down and back up again, adding an experimental twist of his wrist to rub his palm over the head of his uncle’s cock. Mario groaned again in response, breathing heavily, his hips resuming that delicious rocking motion beneath Ezio and his hands squeezing, rocking Ezio’s hips in time with his own movement. It was fairly similar to riding a horse, and Ezio joined in, letting his back and legs and hips undulate in time with the strokes of his hand up and down Mario’s cock. He’d had lovers ride _him_ like this before while he was inside them; and his breath hitched and then quickened at the thought of riding _Mario_ like that, cock thick and full inside him instead of only in his hand. 

A tremor ran through him, a flush of sheer _want_ that left him light-headed, and Ezio dropped back down over top of Mario again, his shaky moan quickly muffled by his uncle’s mouth. His cock _throbbed_ with need and without thinking about it, Ezio arched his back and spread his knees wider, dropping his hips to grind his aching erection against Mario. 

It felt _magnificent,_ that hard slick heat rubbing against his own as Mario thrust up against him. Panting, Ezio wrapped his hand around them both, as much as he could, and began stroking them together, rolling his hips to fuck into his own grip and against Mario’s cock alike. He had to pull away from Mario’s mouth again to catch his breath, pushing himself up on one arm and looking down between them to drink in the view— and then Mario ducked his head and sucked Ezio’s nipple between his lips with a muffled hum of pleasure. 

Ezio quivered, arching into it with a little gasp, his hand stilling but tightening around them both as Mario kept going, licking and suckling at his nipple; first one and then the other. He was still shocked at how good it felt, Mario’s mouth sending thrills of pleasure shivering through his core and straight to his already aching cock. 

Eventually pulling off with a soft wet _pop,_ Mario began sucking a trail of bites up Ezio’s chest to his neck instead, pushing his pants further down to bare his ass completely. 

“Can you— would you… use your fingers again?” Ezio groaned, slightly breathless. Mario’s cock twitched against his as he resumed toying with them both, not stroking so much as twisting his grip just to feel them sliding against one another. “I practiced, while you were away. But it was… not the same.” 

“Is that so?” Mario murmured against his skin. “Mm… pass me the oil, then.” 

Ezio did, and a moment of breathless anticipation later, he was leaning over Mario again, moaning as slippery fingers rubbed over his hole from behind. He kept stroking them both slowly, though he kept getting distracted by the feel of Mario’s warm, slick fingertips rubbing and circling and _teasing_ at his entrance. 

“More,” Ezio finally breathed, spreading his knees wider still half in demand and half in invitation. “ _Per favore,_ I— _ahh—_ ” 

He cut off into a shivering groan as Mario complied, lips curving up into a smirk and his hand sliding further down Ezio’s backside to push two fingertips inside. Panting, Ezio started stroking them both harder, rocking back and forth to thrust into his own hand and to feel Mario’s fingers pressing in and out of him, deeper and deeper as Mario twisted to reach further back and down behind him. 

It was utterly fantastic, Mario’s fingers thick and rough but sliding easily in the slickness of the oil; as far in as Ezio had managed on his own, and then further still. He found himself bracing his free hand on his uncle’s broad chest, curling his fingers through that thick, dark hair and thrusting hard into his own grip with Mario’s cock rubbing hot and hard against his. His pace grew almost frantic, stuttering moans slipping from his open mouth as his uncle’s fingers pushed in deeper until he was fucking himself on them just as much as into his own hand. 

Mario’s breathing was growing ragged and hoarse as well, his hips rocking in time with Ezio’s and his stomach tightening— and to Ezio’s delight, he succeeded in bringing Mario to completion first. He _felt_ it, too; felt his uncle’s cock throbbing and twitching as he came, erupting with glistening spurts that pooled on his belly and pulsed hot and wet against the head of Ezio’s cock. Ezio didn’t last long after that, releasing Mario to pump his own aching cock hard and fast until he spilled himself as well, Mario’s fingers still a deliciously thick, heavy pressure inside him while he shuddered and clenched and watched his own seed streaking trails over his uncle’s stomach and chest. 

Another shivering moan escaped him as Mario’s fingers pulled carefully out of him once he was done, and he had to plant his slippery, come-slick hand on the bed so as not to topple over. He’d come so hard his head was spinning, his arms shaky and his legs almost seeming to wobble beneath him— despite the fact that he was still kneeling, firmly seating over his uncle’s hips and thighs. 

Ezio grinned, finally rolling off of Mario to sprawl on the bed beside him, sweaty and sated, what felt like every muscle in his body still quivering slightly. “Well,” he commented, stretching luxuriously and for once entirely unbothered by the thought of the mess they would have to clean up, “I will certainly continue practicing _that._ ” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr! I'm [chaos-monkeyy](https://chaos-monkeyy.tumblr.com/)


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